


A While Longer

by crazyrandomhappenklance



Series: FrottFestFeb [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Co-workers, Confessions, Dom Lance (Voltron), Dom/sub Undertones, Dry Humping, Foreign Intelligence officers, Frottage, Gay Keith (Voltron), In Vino Veritas, KLFrottFestFeb, M/M, Mild Smut, Non-Penetrative Sex, Prompt Fic, Rescue Missions, Restraints, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Keith (Voltron), Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyrandomhappenklance/pseuds/crazyrandomhappenklance
Summary: Foreign Intelligence officer Lance is sent in to extract fellow officer Keith from where he's being held captive, only to find he's been given an injection of truth serum.“My lips are sealed,” Lance says, hoping to reassure Keith that he won’t be putting any specific quotes in his report when they get back to HQ.“I think about sealing your lips with mine all the time. How about you kiss me now and shut me up?”Lance hears Keith gasp in horror at his unguarded confession, but he’s got no time for it because if Keith doesn’t stop talking, he’s gonna get them both killed.“Stop talking, or you're gonna get us both killed!” Lance hisses.“I can’t!” Keith hisses back.Day 1 of my Klance FrottFestFeb prompt challenge on Twitter! The prompts I used were: In Vino Veritas, and Work Colleagues.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: FrottFestFeb [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151996
Comments: 9
Kudos: 220
Collections: Klance: Into the Multiverse, Klasix Master Collection





	A While Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first of (hopefully!) five fics which I am writing to go with my Klance FrottFestFeb prompt challenge to celebrate my favourite kink and my birthday!

* * *

This isn’t the first time Lance has been called into action to extract Keith Kogane because he’s landed himself in hot shit. Lance would feel more smug about it, but Keith has done the exact same for him on more than one occasion. Currently, this is his three to Keith’s two; not that he’s keeping a tally or anything.

It’s the hazards of the job. The thing is, when you’re this high up in Foreign Intelligence, you’re highly skilled for a reason, so when shit hits the fan, you need someone as equally skilled as yourself to get you out of the soup. The other thing is, the number of officers that equal your own skills are so few, it makes you part of an exclusive team of elite specialists. 

He takes a certain amount of pleasure in his confidence that, right now, all that’s going through that jackass’s head is a silent prayer that the next face he sees will be his. Something about the idea of Keith hoping to see his face gives Lance a feeling that’s stronger than the simple joy of the bragging rights he will have when they’re both back at the agency’s safe house, but he doesn't have time for that. 

With cat-like stealth, Lance slides into the room which had been identified as the one Keith was being held captive in, and he finds him lying motionless on a mattress on the floor. His hands and feet are bound tightly with zip ties, and he’s blindfolded and gagged with strips of rough fabric, but Lance would recognise that mullet anywhere. 

For a heart-stopping moment, Lance freezes, then slackens when he sees Keith’s chest is lifting and falling underneath his grubby, once-white undershirt. He makes a mental note to crack some joke with him about Bruce Willis later. 

Kneeling, Lance pulls the blindfold off over his head and rouses him as gently as he can, not wanting to startle him too much in case he makes any noise. Keith’s eyes flick open, and when they meet Lance’s they reflect his moment of recognition. Unexpectedly, Keith’s expression suddenly melts, his eyes becoming soft and hooded, and from behind the gag, a stretch of a smile appears. 

Keith juts his chin towards Lance, who gets the hint and, with a finger pressed to his lips in warning, he pulls the gag down to free his mouth.

“—You lil’ shh-short for a stormtrooper?” he slurs with a dopey grin; a look that momentarily throws Lance off what he's doing. 

Great. Keith’s been drugged. Perhaps Lance had been counting his chickens a little too soon when he’d thought things were going to plan. He’s never had to carry Keith before, but a mental estimation of Keith’s muscle mass percentage has Lance worried for their chances of making it out together. 

“Do you think you can walk?” Lance whispers as he slices his penknife through the zip ties around Keith’s ankles, ignoring Keith’s jab about his height and not rising to the bait while on duty. 

Keith watches his moves intensely, before giving his legs a deep, questioning frown, then a wiggle. 

“I c’n feel th'm n’move’m okay,” Keith says. 

Just as Lance is reaching around his back to cut the ties around his wrists, Keith mumbles, “Nnnununununah! Not yet!” 

Baffled, Lance pulls the knife away a fraction. Keith writhes a little, as if his brain is finally reconnecting with his body and gives a quiet sigh that carries with it a gentle moan. “Feels kinda... goood, ya know?” he says, rolling his hips the tiniest amount, a movement that Lance doesn’t miss. "You c'd leave me like this for a while longer, if y’like. It'd be our secret.” Keith whispers, then blanches, his eyes widening, "Holy fuck, I said that out loud?! Oh my god, _Fuck!_ I wanna tell you I’m talking shit, but I can’t!”

Okay, Lance is an exceptionally trained, highly professional officer, that up until this moment has never faced a situation yet where he's lost his focus on the mission, but for a second there, Lance’s brain stutters. 

“Are you for r— What did they give you?” Lance asks. His tone is a touch overly serious in an attempt to mask his inner voice's one of incredulity and concern.

As they both reach the same conclusion, they whisper in unison: 

“Truth serum.”

Before either of them gets the chance to say anything more, there’s the distant sound of a commotion, and Lance knows their time’s up. He stashes his knife and hauls Keith to his feet, giving him a quick moment to find his balance, which thankfully is good. 

“Let’s go!” Lance orders, as he grabs Keith by the upper arm and pulls him towards their escape route. 

“Love it when you get all gruff and assertive,” Keith mutters with a smile which swiftly turns to panic. “ _Oh, fuck!_ Please ignore everything I say, Lance! I have no control over my mouth!” They speed down a fire escape and into a dimly-lit alley. 

Lance shoots a glance at his compromised colleague. He doesn’t want Keith to see his face in case his reddening complexion can be seen in the semi-darkness. If Keith’s brain had been dulled by drugs, if it were making him say things he didn’t mean, he could pass them off and ignore them, but this is fucking _truth_ serum, so… 

This is a turn of events that Lance never would have expected. Don’t get him wrong, Keith is _hot._ Keith has a body that deserves to be replicated in marble and displayed in a gallery, and he has a face that’s, quite frankly, unfair. Both things Lance could just about handle if the guy was unattainably straight, but no. Keith lives to test Lance’s restraint because any kind of relationship with a work colleague is usually a bad idea, but in their line of business it can be used as a weakness, so the higher-ups do not approve.

“My lips are sealed,” Lance says, hoping to reassure Keith that he won’t be putting any specific quotes in his report when they get back to HQ. 

“I think about sealing your lips with mine all the time. How about you kiss me now and shut me up?” 

Lance hears Keith gasp in horror at his unguarded confession, but he’s got no time for it because if Keith doesn’t stop talking, he’s gonna get them both killed. 

“Stop talking, or you're gonna get us both killed!” Lance hisses.

“I _can’t!_ ” Keith hisses back.

Lance slams him into the shadows of a deep doorway. “Then, I’ll have to make you!” he warns as he begins tugging the gag up, ready to push it back in his mouth again. 

“Hmmh, Lance! You’re turning me on! — _Fuck!_ I _really_ didn’t want to tell you that, but I can feel myself getting ha—”

“As amusing as this is, I really need you to stop talking until we’re safely outta here, okay?” Lance successfully mutes him once more and he pats Keith’s cheek, hoping his bravado is distraction enough from the way Keith’s words are having an effect on him. 

Checking the coast is clear before they step out into the open again, Lance leads Keith quickly to where he’d left the agency’s vehicle in a discrete, nearby location, and bundles him in the passenger side.

Once they’re on the move, Lance tugs the gag free again. He’s in no way prepared for any more of Keith’s loose talk, but he wants to avoid attracting attention and figures a gagged passenger might just do that. 

Keith wets his lips then clamps his jaw shut tight. The effort it’s taking him to do so is showing on his face as he fixes his eyes on the road ahead and his face becomes a little flushed. 

Lance wants to take pity on him and allow him to sit in silence, but he needs answers to important questions. 

“Did they hurt you?” 

“I caught a few punches and kicks when they took me down, but nothing broken,” he replies, his voice quiet and strained. 

“That’s good. I mean, good you’ve nothing broken,” Lance adds. “So, you any idea what it was they gave you? There might be an antidote if we had a clue what we were dealing with.”

Keith shakes his head. “They had me blindfolded the whole time, I’ve no idea what they stuck me with.”

“Any other symptoms? Apart from your mouth spilling the private contents of your thoughts?” Lance risks a sideways glance and chuckles at the sight of him dying of shame once more.

“I don’t think so,” Keith grits out.

“You sure? You seemed a little out of it when I woke you up.”

“I think they gave me a sedative to knock me out until the serum had time to work, but I feel fine now.”

“At least this time I know for sure you’re not giving me any of your usual ‘I’m fine’ bullshit.” 

“Yeah, well, I only say that because you took such good care of me the first time you patched me up, I caught feelings for you, and you’ve no idea how bad I’ve got it for you, so now every time you touch me I feel like I’m gonna burst into flames, and I want you to touch me—Jesus, I want it so badly—but I know it’s pointless. I’ve always fallen for the pretty boys who are straight, so just let my stupid gay ass bullshit my way outta getting hurt, okay?” 

“Uh…”

“— _Fuck!”_

Lance knows he should be showing more sympathy and giving Keith his best show of professionalism, but he can’t help the huge smile that spreads across his face. 

“You think I’m a pretty boy?” 

“Yes— _Fuck!_ Do _not_ let that go to your ego! It’s inflated enough already.”

“...But you think I’m straight.”

“Of course! You hit on women as if Bond made it a job requirement!”

“Y’know,” Lance says with a smaller smile, “just because I like women, doesn’t mean I can’t like men too, Keith.”

On that bombshell, which seems to leave Keith a little stunned, they arrive at the safehouse. Lance parks and waits for the garage doors to close, then helps Keith out of the car. Keith turns, expecting Lance to finally free his hands, but then whips his head back around when he hears Lance chuckling and opening the door to the house. 

“What the hell, Lance? C’mon!” Keith yells, which only makes Lance laugh.

“Are you planning on spending the night in the garage, or are you coming in?”

Keith joins him in the house and stands, waiting, as Lance discards his jacket and toes off his boots. 

“So, you gonna free my hands now?” Keith asks, his face drawn into a frown, but not looking up at him. 

Lance ignores the question. “You thirsty? Hungry?”

“Thirsty? Yes. Hungry? No.” 

“Alright.” 

It’s all Lance says before he moves across the room and flicks the light switch of an adjoining room, illuminating what looks like a kitchen. A moment later he returns with an isotonic sports drink in his hand. 

“Aren’t you gonna sit down?” 

“I was waiting for you to cut these damn ties from my wrists first.”

Lance puts the bottle down on the coffee table, then stands in front of Keith and levels his gaze. “That’s funny because I remember you being a lot less keen for me to remove them earlier.” 

Keith’s face flushes scarlet again and he purses his lips to keep rogue words from escaping. Lance brings out his penknife, opens it, then circles both arms around Keith to position the blade over the ties between his trapped wrists and presses his body unreasonably up against Keith’s. 

“So, tell me,” Lance pauses to let the weight of those words have an effect, because he knows whatever he asks will be answered with total honesty, and he wants Keith to be fully aware of that when he gives his answer. “Do you really want me to free your hands, or do you want me to leave you like this for a while longer?” 

Their faces are so close, Lance can feel Keith’s breath stutter across his cheek. “A-a while longer,” he helplessly admits, looking away to the floor to avoid Lance’s pleased grin. 

“I thought that’s what you’d say,” he says, pulling back slowly and folding the knife away. “Sit,” he tells him, pointing toward the couch. “Let me help you with that drink, I heard you like it when I take care of you.”

The effort it’s taking Keith to keep his mouth shut tight looks to be causing him actual pain, but he follows Lance’s directions and takes a seat on the couch. Lance picks up the bottle and uncaps it, then sits side-on next to him, slipping a hand around the back of Keith’s neck, his long fingers combing through his hair, as he brings the bottle to Keith’s lips and encourages him to tilt his head back enough to take a drink while he supports him. 

Keith grudgingly lets him but shuts his eyes until he’s had enough. When Lance lifts the bottle away to return it to the table, a drop lands on Keith’s bottom lip and slides down his chin, but he can’t move to wipe it away. 

“Oops! Careful,” Lance says as he swipes it up with his thumb, and without thinking, Keith takes it gently away with his lips. 

Lance reacts with a low hum of approval, a sound that has Keith’s body responding before he realises what he’s done. 

“Jesus Christ, Lance, don’t mess around with me like this! I wasn’t joking about getting hurt. I told you how I feel... please, don’t play with me,” he pleads. 

“What if… if I gave you a confession of my own?” Lance asks, gently pressing his thumb along Keith’s lower lip, “What if I said that my feelings were mutual? Would you believe me?” 

“I’m not sure.”

“Okay, would you trust me?”

“I trust you with my life, but I’ve never trusted anyone with my heart.” 

“Would you trust me enough to give me a chance to prove to you that you could trust me? Because you might think it, but I don’t fuck around, Keith. Flirting to get what I need for a mission is just an act, just part of the job, nothing more. It couldn’t be further from what I’m really like.”

Lance holds onto Keith’s gaze like his eyes are open windows to his soul, hoping Keith can see the honesty that lies within. 

“I’d be willing to give you the chance. Yeah, sure,” Keith says.

“Can... can I touch you?” 

“You already are,” Keith points out. 

“That’s not what I meant. I mean... is this okay?” Lance slides his hand up Keith's thigh, his fingers stopping at the top of his leg, but not quite at his crotch. 

Keith’s eyes flutter as he lets out something that’s in between a sigh of contentment, and a groan of pleasure. “Hmm! Yes! That’s more than okay, don’t stop there!”

Lance immediately wants to ruin Keith completely; it seems too easy and too good an opportunity to not have some fun with. “Oh? You want me to go higher?” 

“Please.”

“Like this?” he asks, skimming his hand lightly over what’s a promising bulge, but carries on upwards, pushing his hand up under his undershirt and across his tight stomach, not stopping until his fingers brush the hard nub of one of his nipples and he gives it a gentle pinch, earning him a beautiful groan as Keith rolls his head back into the cup of Lance’s hand. 

“That wasn’t what I was thinking, but that’s good too.” Keith answers.

Lance hums. The pale column of Keith’s neck stretched taut in front of him is too inviting, and Lance finds himself unable to resist its calling. 

He sits up, throws a leg over Keith’s lap, and dips his head down, lips poised, brushing over the skin below his ear. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Lance, I have my hands willingly tied behind my back, I’ve already confessed far more than I wanted to, I’m inviting you to do whatever you want to my body. If you get too freaky, I’ll let you know, okay? Otherwise, you have my full consent, and I’ll never be able to say that more honestly, so you know I really mean it.”

“Do you think I’m gonna hold it against you?” 

“No, but I’m fucking praying you’re gonna hold _this_ against me,” Keith purrs and laughs as he tries his best to grind into Lance’s now very obvious bulge, only to suck in his breath sharply as Lance starts to work his mouth over his skin, and it becomes apparent that even his groans are under the influence of the truth serum. 

“Fuck, Keith! If you keep making those noises, I’m gonna cum in my pants.” 

“And you say that like it’s a bad thing,” Keith replies, “I think it’s kinda hot, I want to make you cum in your pants— _Fuck!_ I have _got_ to stop talking!” 

“No, you don’t. Keep talking,” Lance says a little breathlessly, as he effortlessly slides his knees further apart to press their rock-hard dicks together. 

Keith lets out another of his all too honest groans. “What do you want me to say?”

“Everything you want me to do to you; everything you want to do to me,” Lance says as he starts steadily rocking them together with a slow curl of his hips. 

“That’s—Hah!—That’s gonna take a—Mmm!—long time!” Keith chuckles.

“Understandable,” Lance reasons, smiling too. “Then, just tell me everything that you want right now.”

“Everything?”

“ _Everything._ ” Lance pauses his movements to allow Keith to focus on what he's saying. “And, if you get too freaky, I’ll let you know, too. Okay?” he says, stroking a hand through Keith’s dark hair before cupping his cheek. 

Keith laughs and nods. “Safe words?”

“Traffic lights work for me.”

“Cool.”

“How’re your wrists?” Lance asks, checking in to make sure he’s not stupidly hurting himself by getting caught up in what’s happening. 

“They’re good, but I want to lie down.”

“Sure,” Lance gives him room to manoeuvre and helps him get his hands comfortably behind the dip of his spine, then immediately goes back to straddling his hips. “This good for you?” he asks, splaying his hands across Keith’s chest and resuming rolling his hips, which is a much bigger motion now that he has more room to move and the position allows him to press down harder.

“Yes... feels... amazing!” Keith squeezes his eyes shut and silently gasps.

“Uh-uh, no keeping quiet on me, Kogane. I want all your noises to tell me how you feel, okay?”

Keith opens his eyes, pupils blown into lust-drunk pools, and nods. 

Forcing him to confirm his reply, Lance circles his hips, grinding their too tightly confined erections together in a new sensation, and Keith’s moan is loud and sinful. Lance thinks he underestimated just how good he was making Keith feel, if that reaction was anything to go by, as the sound travels down his body and makes him shudder and moan in response. 

“Keep going, tell me what you want me to do,” Lance urges him.

“Use me,” Keith pants, “I want you to get off on me, just like this.”

“That will _not_ be a challenge,” Lance insists, his hips picking up pace. “You like me being in charge, huh?” 

“Ah! Fuck! Yeah, I do!”

“You like me telling you what to do? You gonna do exactly what I say?”

“Y-Yes! Anything!” Keith says as he starts to lift his hips in time with Lance’s grind down so that they’re moving in perfect sync with each other. 

“Are you close, Keith?”

“Yeah, s-so close! Nah-h-ah!” 

“Show me; don’t hold back. Show me how pretty you are when I make you cum, and you’ll make me cum. Cum for me, Keith.”

Keith cries out, his voice breaking as he arches up into Lance, chasing the pleasure in the friction between them and sending Lance over the edge at the sight, just as he promised. They finally kiss, grinding out their highs in gasps and groans until they’re each reduced to a panting mess.

“Well, looks like you got your wish,” Lance chuckles when he finally feels able to talk, reaching down and peeling his sticky clothing away from his skin. 

“More than one,” Keith says, chasing Lance’s lips once more, which Lance easily gives into.

Before they get too relaxed in their post-orgasm make-out-and-crash, Lance pulls back and breaks their kiss. “Here, I should cut those zip ties for you now,” he says, moving to go get his knife.

Keith makes a small noise that stops Lance in his tracks.

“...A while longer?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Annoyingly, the process of writing this did not go so well, so it took me a few days to fix and finish it, so, unfortunately, I've fallen behind on my own prompt list! 😫 I'm hoping the rest won't give me any problems, but I'm significantly (even) slower because, as a symptom of one of my health conditions, my hands are in splints atm, but I'm determined to fulfil all my prompt days!  
> If you wish to join in or follow what others have created, check out the tag #KLFrottFestFeb on Twitter and you can find the list of prompts [here on my NSFW Twitter account.](https://twitter.com/Crazyrandyhapkl/status/1354909976037371904) Please be 18+!
> 
> You can come find me on social media by checking out my linktree, the link for which is in my profile!


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